Late One Night
by Orange Seltzer
Summary: Fred has feelings for the one person he knows he can't. But will one night make his give into temptation? Simply smuttastic.[Twincest]


J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter. Not me.

"C'mon mate, come to bed. It's late, and Lord knows you need your beauty sleep."

Cocky smile. Tired chuckle. It was so cute; Fred could barely give a nonchalant, "Shut up, you arse." But he knew the words he formed sounded awkward, and jumbled together. George looked at him with a smirk and cocked his head. Fred turned away, his cheeks paling in horror. It was getting too hard to hide his sick, demented, yet oddly "normal" feeling crush he had on his twin. Twin…_Twincest, _he called it now affectionately, thinking of all the wrongs there were in his predicament, but having it add up to okay. Fred drifted off, sneaking a look at his brother, whose blue eyes were closed, and whose orange hair was unkempt, sticking up from the pillow. He was-

"Gorgeous."

It took him a second or two to realize what he had said, and much to loudly. George's eyes shot open, and Fred's heart raced like the Hogwarts Express. He gave an unsure, stupid laugh, causing the other Weasley's brow to furrow.

"You haven't been drinking our stash by yourself again, have you? Cause you know you get really bummed when you're plastered by yourself?"

And turning on the light that hung from the ceiling, George rolled to the edge of his bed and groped under the depths of it. He pulled out a unsuspecting looking wand, a rubber duck which doubled as a flask (And burped Vodka bubbles) and finally a messy bundle of dress robes. Unraveling them, Fred saw a large bottle of half empty Fire Whiskey appear. It was their stash, bought during the last Hogsmeade visit, at the Hog's Head. Even though they were only fifteen, the bartender had given it to them without question. Now, George uncorked the bottle, took a large swig, and burped. Wiping his mouth, he handed Fred the whiskey, which he proceeded to chug. Jumping onto his twin's bed, he picked up the "wand" and tapped the bed with it. It turned into a glowing purple condom package.

"From our over eighteen collection, let's prey Mum and Dad find any use for it," Fred commented, thinking of someone he'd love to use it on. Tucking it away, he pulled the bottle back from George, and gulped down the rest. Laughing at nothing, he remembered the time last week when he had accidentally-on-purpose walked in on George toweling off. Even though they were twins, he couldn't help notice that while he was longer, George was thicker. Even though he could only glimpse for a second-not even-he would get a enormously hard whenever thinking about his twin's slick, glistening body. How he longed to stroke his brother's limp penis, feel it turn into a sturdy erection, and than have semen squirt from it, and cascade down his hand.

"Mate, you list-"

No, Fred wasn't listening. Folding his legs so that his woody wouldn't be as apparent, he reached over to George, unable to resist his unthinkable urges any longer. His finger's reached around his twin's earlobe, and began to rub it gently. At first, his brother didn't do anything, just froze, and Fred considered stopping, but his body wouldn't let him.

"Mate, I-I think y-you've had enough to drink f-for one nigh-"

But Fred pushed himself onto his brother, and let their lips press together, lacing against George's chapped mouth. And Fred's extreme shock, his twin simply said, "Mate, what the Hell are you doing?" But it wasn't a question, it was a statement, and his voice was low, and husky, and pleasured. And he didn't wait for an answer. Pressing his body against his twin's, they fell down onto the mattress, their tongues entering, exploring, and joining.

If possible, Fred felt himself getting even more aroused, it pressing against George's thigh. Slowly, he felt his twin's genitals rising, and George's warm, sweaty hands go under his shirt, and feel around his toned stomach. Little bursts of ecstasy popped wherever George's hands went, Fred's breathing becoming more ragged. 'It feels so good,' he thought, pulling the other Weasley's shirt over his head, and brought his lips mouth to George's nipple, nibbling and sucking on it.

"Fuck me…" George moaned, while he played with his brother's gingery hair. Fred willingly (and happily) obeyed, kicking his boxers down and kicking them off his ankles. He ripped open the condom package, which revealed a purple, glowing contraceptive, and slid it on, feeling his insides swell. He hungrily pulled George's jeans down, fondling the enlarged organ. His twin's eyes were closed, a slight smile playing at his lips. Bowling him over, Fred entered his brother from behind, George gasping from the twisted pleasure. And than the trusting began. Fred went farther in, than retracted, heart beating like he had just won the Quidditch World Cup, He trusted his shaft in deeply, and came, an exhilarating feeling flooding through him.

"More Fred…more," George murmured, and the giver obliged, peppering the receiver's neck, and sucking to leave uneven marks. His hands slid under George's flesh, and played with his twin's erection until he too, flowed with semen. Leaving him, Fred rolled George over and crouched near his pelvis, mouth around the cum drenched cock, and sucking on him like a lemon drop. Again, George came, and his brother moaned, swallowing hungrily. And than his twin, his beloved twin, thirst quenched, stopped everything and curled up in the fetal position, eyes closed. Fred grinned, and curled up next to him, knowing George was selfish, and could be unsure of their "relationship." He would almost always be on the receiving end, and sometimes angry at Fred for making him feel this way. But he didn't care, because right now, his indulgences, sick as they were, were fulfilled.


End file.
